


Friends and Relations

by angryclockface



Category: The White Queen (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2014-01-08
Packaged: 2018-01-05 22:18:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1099241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angryclockface/pseuds/angryclockface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To start with, there wasn't enough space. When thirteen people and one high chair are round one kitchen table, it's never going to work. Especially when most of them can't stand each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

To start with, there wasn't enough space. When thirteen people and one high chair are round one kitchen table, it's never going to work. Especially when most of them can't stand each other. But then the chicken burnt, and Anne came out as a vegetarian. And Liz dropped a bowl and smashed it. And Beth slipped on a wet patch and bumped her head, and subsequently refused to eat. Mary spent almost the entire meal on the phone and George and Isabel were glaring at each other over the table. So needless to say, it was awkward.

“Elizabeth, the... um the house, the house looks lovely.” That was awkward in itself as the house had once been Cicely's, but she had hastily retreated after Edward came home with his new, and very pregnant bride.

“Well.” Ice was in her voice. “Thank you.” She scanned the room herself: “It would be tidier if I didn't have fiv-” Everyone stopped. “Four children.” She ruffled Beth's hair. Almost everyone resumed, however, Edward's eyes remained fixed on his wife. Richard looked up from his plate and caught eyes with Anne.

“So, how is new flat hunting going, Anne?” She laughed and ran a hand through her hair.

“Not so well.” Richard smiled sadly. “It's almost like people don't want to rent a nice flat to a single woman with little income, no savings and a pointless degree.” Everyone laughed softly.

“I've told you, I have a spare room.” She shook her head and smiled.

“Don't worry, Richard, I do have a flat, of sorts. I couldn't take yours, but thank you, anyway.”

“But I don't see-” He was cut short by Ann.

“How is your mother, Mary?” She sighed, shrugged, and slowly pulled her eyes away from her phone.

“I haven't been home in a month, your guess is as good as mine.” And then back on the phone.

“We should invite her down sometime, it's been an age.” Cicely smiled at Ann and replied.

“You're right, it's been too long since I've seen my sister. But it is very nice to see my sister in law and her lovely daughters.” Ann smiled, but her eyes fell on Anne and her smile turned sour. Everyone looked away, awkwardly. Cicely tried again. “And how was your holiday, Isabel?” But she posed the question to George, so he replied.

“Oh, fine.” Isabel almost whimpered at his words. “You know, good.”

“Expensive!” Isabel chipped in, and everyone mumbled an affirmative.

“Not as expensive as doctors...” He whispered this, but we all heard it. After half a minute of silence, Izzy scraped her chair back, and after mumbling apologies, left the room, her head hung low. Anne followed.

 

She had barely made it to the bathroom before huge salty tears were streaming down her face, softly, Anne closed the door behind her. Isabel clung to her sister desperately.

“It's not fair, Anne!” Anne smoothed down her hair. “IT'S NOT FAIR!” Anne continued to pet her.

“I know, I know.” Anne cooed as Isabel rocked back and forth on the toilet seat.

“I deserve a baby, Anne. No one deserves one more than me!” It had been years. Long before they were married, almost two and a half years of trying. She was right, it wasn't fair.

 

“Nicely done, George.” George scoffed.

“Don't lecture me, Ed. Especially not on marital morals, because everyone knows-” Liz screamed.

“BETH TAKE YOUR SISTER UPSTAIRS. RIGHT NOW.” Beth obediently obliged and took her sister's hand. As soon as they left, Liz turned on George, almost hissing. “How dare you?” Edward, knowing his wife, took her arm; but she shook him off, her gaze never leaving George. “How dare you say things like that in front of my children? This is my home, and I will not have you, or anyone in this house mention...” She lost faith. She slumped down in her chair, defeated. George looked embarrassed.

“I apologise, Elizabeth. I over stepped the mark.” He then quietly said. “I think I should go.” Liz nodded her head slowly. George silently went into the hall and called his wife from the bottom of the stairs. She, after a little persuasion, came down with red rimmed eyes and a pale face. They left without saying goodbye. Ten minutes later, Anne left with Richard. A few minutes after that, Cicely left with Ann and Mary.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“Is Isabel all right?” Anne looked over, sadly.

“For now, yes. In the future? I don't know.” Richard smiled sadly.

“How much are they spending on this treatment?”

“More then they have, that's for sure.”

“That's awful.”

“Yeah, it is.” They sat in a happy silence for a while, both without burning questions to ask each other. After a while, Anne fully turned in her seat and looked at Richard.

“So, anyway... how are you?” He smiled. “It feels like ages!”

“It has been ages!” She mused on that thought.

“I suppose it has. We shouldn't let that happen.”

“No, we shouldn't.” A few moments passed. “I'm well anyway.” She sighed happily and smiled.

“I hear you're a lawyer now?”

“Almost! One day... and what about you? What are your big plans for the future?” She groaned.

“Don't talk about my future! You have hit my only forbidden topic!” She groaned and writhed in her seat. He laughed at her.

“I can't believe that. Where did that Anne go, so full of dreams?” He almost sang the last part.

“To college!” He laughed again. “Where I learnt that no dreams come true, and there is nothing you can do about it.” He tutted.

“Hush, Anne. I don't believe that. My dreams came true!” She narrowed her eyes.

“Your dream wasn't to be a lawyer...” He hung his mouth open in shock.

“Yes it was!”

“No, it wasn't! I remember distinctly that you told me when you were nine that your life-time ambition was to be a frog.” He burst out into laughter.

“Seriously! Anne, I was nine!”

“It counts, Richard!”

“I think I only said that so you would kiss me...” He looked at her slyly and she pulled an expression of mock shock.

“That is evil! You took advantage of a six year old!” Richard pulled a disgusted face.

“Please don't phrase it like that, it makes me sound seriously shady. Anyway, you totally would have done it anyway...” He pulled a cheeky grin and lent close to her.

“Shameless flirt! What would your girlfriend say?” He pulled away, his smile completely gone.

“Not much, seeing as we split up ten months ago.” Anne inwardly kicked herself for her stupidity. “I'm so sorry, Richard. You were so close.” He visibly winced. She pinched herself as punishment for her second blunder.

“It's all right, Anne. It wasn't working. I mean, Kate and me were together for five years, and five years ago we were practically children. We didn't know what we wanted. But now? Now I know exactly what I want to do. And so does she.” Anne tilted her head and smiled encouragingly. “So that's healthy, I guess.” _Well done, Anne_. She thought her herself, _Make the man cry._ “Anyway;” Thankfully his voice had brightened. “What about you?” She knew where this was going.

“What about me?”

“You! And your... love life.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. She laughed sarcastically.

“Non-existent, I'll have you know!” She lifted his hands up and nodded as if to say, _'fine, you win.'_ She lent back against the comfortable leather and sighed with satisfaction. “I miss this.”

“So do I.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

Cicely sighed hopelessly, looking at her niece. After a moment or two she called out,

“Mary, would you like to drive?” Even before she could finish, Mary was in the drivers seat, the keys in the ignition.

“Lets go, Auntie Ce!” Praying to the lord for her safety, Cicely gingerly stepped into the car.

 

Quarter of an hour later, she had marginally relaxed. Although Mary's driving was erratic, clumsy and uncomfortable, it was unlikely to kill anyone. Hopefully. And the desired result had been achieved, Mary had not looked at her phone in over ten minutes, and Mary was finally talking.

“Shall I drop you off first, Mrs Neville?”

“If you wouldn't mind, Mary.” Mary shrugged and smiled. Cicely observed her, humming to an imaginary tune in her head.

“So, Mary. Any plans for the summer?” She shrugged again.

“Not really. Meet some people, go to a couple of parties, maybe get a job?” She laughed. “But that's not very likely, is it?” She turned to Cicely to share the joke.

“EYES ON THE ROAD, MARY!”

“Oh shit..” She hastily returned to a forward position and everyone relaxed. Cicely attempted to continue the conversation.

“So, parties, huh?” Mary nodded eagerly, winking with delight. “Well, don't get too excited... or drunk...” Mary snorted.

“But I'm sixteen, Auntie Cicely!” Ann, from the back, tutted.

“Don't try to tell me you weren't having fun at my age?”

“I was pregnant at your age.” Mary snorted again.

“Well, you were certainly having fun at some point...” she started laughing, but saw her aunt's face, and thought better of it.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Back at the house, the storm began to rage.

“Why are Mummy and Daddy fighting?” Beth placed a hand lightly over her sisters mouth as they sat on the stairs, eavesdropping on the entire thing.

“You have to be quiet, Cece, or I'll miss bits.”

 

“How does he know?” Liz held no restraints now, she couldn't.

“Liz, please.” He tried to take her hand and stroke it, she pulled away, disgusted.

“No! Tell me how he knows!”

“I am not going to discuss this with you in this way!” He tried to leave the room.

“Oh really, then when will you discuss it?” He looked away, embarrassed. Her mouth dropped as a thought came into her head. “Oh my God!” He hands went to her face. “Oh my God!” She sat down and looked up at him, her icy eyes filled with anger. “How long has this been going on?” He fully turned around, his back entirely facing her. “HOW LONG, EDWARD? I NEED TO KNOW!” He twirled round and replied;

“A YEAR!” Elizabeth felt sick. “A WHOLE YEAR, ELIZABETH!” He turned to leave but she pulled her back.

“Do you mean that all that time I was sitting next to my son in a hospital bed, you were...” She felt the lump in her throat forming. “...with her?” He paused for a moment, then nodded. She fell back like someone had stabbed her.

“I'm sorry, Elizabeth.” She couldn't meet his eyes.

“I hate you.”

“I know that.”

 

And he left.

 


	2. Chapter 2

It had been two hours since Edward had left, and Elizabeth still hadn't left her seat at the table where he had left her. A whole year. A _whole_ year. She could hear her baby crying. Her baby girl crying, but she couldn't move. Eventually the howling had stopped. So she had no reason to move. So she sat. Sat in silence as her mind screamed from every corner.

 

Beth had, at some time after her father's departure, ushered her little sister upstairs and had been quietly playing in her room for some time. But eventually, as it must, the topic had strayed away from princesses and horses to the argument downstairs.

“Do you think Dad is angry with Mum, Beth?” Cecilia had always admired and envied her big sister, for her golden hair and her petite form. Her flawless mouth, and the fact she was ten, and apparently knew the answer to everything.

“Yes, but they always make up.” Beth smiled at her sister to reassure her and resumed brushing her horse's long (but slightly tangled hair).

“But what...” Cece lent forward and whispered, “What if they get a divorce?” Beth smiled again and shook her head.

“They wont. They never do.” She wasn't convinced, a fact which was made evident by the frankly comic expression of displeasure on her face and her folded arms. “They love each other, Ce.” Cecilia smiled and nodded.

“You're right, of course you are.” Beth lent over and took her sisters hands in hers.

“I promise, Ce.”

 

But she couldn't promise anything, not this time.

 

Needless to say, Beth had witnessed the majority of the fighting, unfortunately not all of it done by peering over the stairs. At first, it had alarmed Beth, cowering under her bed clothes from the noise of it. But then an hour or so would pass, the door would slam and her Mum would slip into her room, sit on her bed and stroke her hair. And Beth would ignore the tears that were streaming down her mother's face and just sink into the soothing feel of the hands on her head.

 

After Cece was born, three years later, Beth decided to be brave. Brave for her baby sister. So every time that storm began to rage, she would run into her sister's room and sit next to her cot, her eyes firmly on the door ready to pounce. The next year after that, Ed was born, and everything went quiet. But quite often Beth would find her way into her sister's room anyway. The year after that, Richard was born and the house remained in silence. Beth almost forgot the sounds of the storm. Nothing was ever very joyful after Richard was born. He was sick, and was away from home a lot, which meant Elizabeth was away from home too. The house was silent still, like a spell had been cast, which had sent the whole world to sleep. Another baby was born, another little girl, Bridget. But no one even noticed.

 

Then her mother came home. And the fighting started, and never stopped.

 

And Richard never came home.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He knew it was early, it had to be early. As he attempted to silently slip his key into the lock he prayed that Isabel wasn't up yet. To say that Isabel was a late sleeper, was an unjustifiable understatement. Isabel tended to spend the whole of the day in bed, only to get up for a couple of hours a day to potter round and do a little work. Not that George minded, in fact in days gone by, he would often have joined her in her laziness. But recently her 'laziness' had been different, it was no longer that she was simply to comfortable or too tired to get out of bed, it was now because she couldn't face getting up, couldn't cope with the strain of walking downstairs.

 

Unfortunately for George, Isabel was sitting at the breakfast bar, bare faced, her hair pulled tightly back into a ponytail, her faced mournful and her posture stiff and rigid. And naturally, she was wearing her silk pyjamas.

“Morning.” He voice was flat and exhausted, nothing like it used to be.

“Morning, Izzy.” He kissed her shoulder, it being the closest thing he could find. “I was wondering-”

“Where were you?” She interrupted, and all attempts of civility were lost.

“With friends.” She rolled her eyes. “What, Isabel? It's the truth!” She slid herself gracefully off the counter.

“Oh, I don't doubt it, George.”

“Look, Isabel.”

“Stop it.” He voice was icy. He didn't insult her by continuing. He thought the conversation was over and was about to leave the room when she continued. “Some things will have to change, George.” He nodded eagerly. “I have decided to go back to work.” She tilted his head in confusion.

“But... but you do work Iz love...” She shook her head slowly.

“Work at the gallery, George.” His heart sank. “I called, and they offered my job back. I had to say yes, darling. I had to.”

“But you left work so...” She turned her head away and sniffed heavily like she was about to cry. “... so we could start a family. I thought that was what you wanted?” She threw her hands up in the air.

“Of course I do, George!” She no longer held back her tears as they began to fall down her face. “I still do, but...” She wrapped her arms around herself, as if it was some comfort. “George, I'm twenty six years old. It's not normal, George, for it to be so hard to have a baby. I mean, how long have we been trying, two years? Two and a half? Maybe, maybe it wasn't meant to be, George.” His eyes were fixed on the ground, his ears not quite believing what they were hearing. “I'm so sorry, Love.”

Finally, he spoke,

“You want to give up?” Her eyes widened.

“Not give up! Just...” The doctor's words flashed suddenly into both of their minds; _'Accept.'_ He suddenly felt very bitter.

“Don't bother, Isabel. I know exactly what you were going to say.” He got up to leave but she reached out to him.

“But we still love each other, don't we? We still want to spend the rest of our lives together?” She was smiling, but it was a desperate smile, and the tears didn't make it too convincing.

“I want a baby, Isabel.” She loosened her grip, and he went.

 

She sat down, her face frozen in horror.

 

A little while later, she heard the door slam, and suddenly her mind was filled with one thought. _Leave him. Leave him. Leave him._ Before she could think twice about it, she was upstairs, with a weekend bag lying on her bed while she furiously stuffed what she could into it. She wanted to do it quickly, do it before common sense could change her mind. Five minutes later, Isabel was downstairs, having left practically everything upstairs. She considered leaving a note, but didn't know what she would say, or what she could say coherently. Instead, she twisted her wedding ring off her finger placed it gently on the kitchen table with a satisfying _clink._ Her hand felt suddenly light and bare. _Screw clichés_ she thought. _I'm going to do this how I want to do this_. And throwing a light jacket over her shoulders, despite the fact that it was mid December, Isabel left the house.

 

And suddenly felt very alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“Oh my God.” Anne had opened the door to the sight of her older sister weeping on her doorstop, wearing her pyjamas and with a weekend bag on the floor next to her, bursting with toiletries and not much else. Isabel acknowledged her, but continued to cry. Anne stood at her door, her eyes wide in disbelief, her mouth wide open. After a while, (a long while) Anne recovered, knelt down and began to rub her sister on the back, which made her cry even more. “Izzy?” Izzy whined something completely undecipherable, but Anne continued. “What happened?” Isabel whined her answer and gesticulated dramatically. Anne nodded sympathetically, but really had no idea what her sister had said. Isabel continued to whine, and Anne nodded, wondering what the hell had happened. “Could you repeat that last bit?” Isabel nodded, sobbed and almost shouted;

“I LEFT HIM!” She began to sob uncontrollably again, and once again, Anne was in complete shock. After a minute of so, Anne said;

“Shall we go inside?” Isabel paused her emotional outburst for long enough to be lead into the living room and onto the sofa before she began to cry again. She rested her head on Anne's lap as Anne smoothed her hair down, still wondering what happened.

 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Meanwhile, at York and Son, George was having his emotional outburst in a slightly different way. By sneaking a cigarette with Ed at the back of the building.

“I get it! I messed up!” Ed sniggered, never underestimating his brother's ability to mess stuff up. “But the point is, how do I fix it?” Ed sighed and passed the cigarette to George, who took a long drag.

“Truth is, I don't know one thing about women.” George raised his eyebrows.

“Believe that when I see it..”

“You saw it yesterday, didn't you?”

“You mean with Elizabeth?” Edward reached out for the cigarette.

“Yeah, of course I do.” Edward rubbed his forehead tiredly. “If anyone's messed up it's me.”

“Don't beat yourself up about it Ed, it's not your fault.” Ed looked up, ready to disagree.

“Really? Whose the one sleeping with Jane, huh?” George suddenly looked sad.

“I meant, about Richard.” Edward looked down, suddenly filled with grief. “That's what's wrong really.”  
“No, George. Things like that are supposed to bring families together, make them stronger. What I did after... that only makes things worse.”

“You're an idiot, then.” Ed nodded solemnly in agreement. After a minute or so of passing the cigarette back and forth, Ed spoke again.

“Go home to your wife while you have the chance, baby brother. Go and tell her you love her.” George got up to leave, but paused.

“Will you go back to yours, Ed?” Ed looked up sadly.

“No. I'm meeting Jane for lunch.”

 

George ran faster than he ever had in his life.

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

“ _I miss this.”_

“ _So do I.”_

 

He had replayed it in his head time and time again. He knew she meant nothing by it, _why would she... but what if she did? He was single, she was apparently single, she was... beautiful... and what harm could it do? Lots of harm that's what. What if she wanted him as a friend? What if she secretly had a boyfriend? What if she was just making small talk, what if... what if... what..._ He slammed his head on the desk, he was seriously sleep deprived.

 

While Richard had his crisis, his colleagues, Francis and Robert were laughing at it through the glass door which separated his office with theirs.

“What is it about, do you think?” Robert whispered to Francis, his face full of glee. Francis shrugged.

“Kate?” Robert waved it off.

“Nah, why would he do that now? It's been like... months and he's been fine...”

“Yeah you're right... Well what...” His mouth dropped open and he smiled widely.

“What? What?” He was practically jumping up and down. Francis took both of his hands to his face and enthusiastically whispered;

“Anne!” Robert's face fell.

“Who?” Now it was Francis' turn to be disappointed.

“Oh, come on Bobbie, you remember! Small girl, long brown hair, used to come to the office every Thursday?” Bobbie grinned again and they both laughed.

“But why would he be upset about her? She was even longer ago than Kate.” Francis clapped his hands excitedly and said;

“That is where you are wrong, my dear Bob.” He grabbed something from his desk and smashed it into his friends face.

“What is it?”

“His day planner! Look!” Francis flicked it open to the current week, and there was:

 

_12th October 2013_

_Dinner with Family, 7pm (and A)_

 

Robert raised an eyebrow.

“ A? That's what you are getting this,” He gesticulated angrily towards Richard's door, “..from?” Francis was practically erupting.

“Look at him!” She turned his friend around and held his head in place just to make sure he was observing the mess that was Richard.

“Yeah I see him...”

“LOOK AT HIM!” Robert obliged. “That,” Francis finally let go and sauntered back to his desk. “ is the text book case of a man in love.” Robert raised his hands, as if to surrender.

“You're the expert, Frank.” They both went back to there computers, supposedly doing work.

“On Richard, I am always the expert.” Robert sniggered, took one more glance at Richard, (who still had his head on the desk) and reluctantly, went back to work.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Do you think you'll ever go back?” Isabel starred blankly into Anne's almost white walls and shrugged her shoulders. “Please, Iz. Just talk. Just say something.” The phone ran again. Neither Isabel nor Anne got up to answer it. Once again, it rang out to voice mail.

“Hi Isabel. Look I know I said some bad things and I'm really sorry, but if you would just answer th-” Isabel ran over and pulled out the phone. Slowly, as if half dead, she came back to the couch.

“No.” Her voice had changed. It was hard and cold, not warm and loving like it always had been.

“No?”

“No. I don't imagine I'll ever go back to him. He can find some other woman who can give him plenty of children and be a lovely little home-maker for that sexist pig.” Anne threw her hands in the air.

“Hey, I'm all for feminism, but...” She was stopped dead by her sister's icy glare.

“Are you on my side, or not?” Her face had changed. Less hard, and more like she was holing something in, holding something back. Anne came forward and took her hand in Isabel's.

“Of course I'm on your side. I always will be, like you were always on mine, all through...” Isabel looked surprised. “...my childhood.”

“We never talked about that.” Anne's eyes were on the floor, not wanting to meet her sister's.

“Still, I noticed it. And I was always grateful.” Anne didn't expect Izzy to pull her up and hold her skinny, graceful arms.

“We never had the easiest time, did we?” Isabel was almost choking on her tears.

“No.” Anne laughed sadly, “...and I doubt we ever will.”

 

They sat, for a few hours, in almost complete silence, just watching T.V, not feeling the need to talk about their mother, or George or Richard, or anything else that bothered them. Just like the old days.

“Are you feeling better?” Isabel's arm was wrapped around Anne and she squeezed her lovingly as she replied.

“Yeah, just a stomach bug or something.” Anne nodded. “Annie?”

“Hmm?” Anne snuggled closer.

“Can I ask about...” But before she could finish, Anne's phone began to buzz, and she immediately sat up, alarmed. “What.. What...”

“My phone, where is it?” She was saying this to herself rather than to her guest, but Isabel replied all the same.

“Well, can't you leave it?”

“No!” Anne pulled up a cushion and snatched her phone from under it. Isabel could see her hands shaking.

“Are you all right?” Anne hummed an affirmative, which she attempted to be cheery, but sounded terrified. “Seriously, what..”

“I have to go, Izzy.” Anne tried to pull a smile. “But you are welcome to stay for as long as you want, so please... make yourself at home!”

 

And within seconds, she was gone. A human whirlwind. Isabel would have reacted, but at that precise moment, she felt another wave of nausea and ran to the bathroom.

 

Well, she could certainly stay she felt at home. She wondered what could have made her so ill. And then it hit her.

 

_Late._

_Late._

_**Late.** _

 

She raided her sister's cabinet, throwing flu medicines and indigestion tablets down to the floor. She was on a mission. _How could this be physically possible?_ Turned out, Anne didn't have any. She ran out, with a five pound note in her hand and keys. She practically glided into the chemist's, panting as she reached the counter. Completely breathless, she simply pointed at the test. The pretty pharmacist smiled, gave it to her, took the five pound the note, gave the change and as Isabel left called out, 'GOOD LUCK!'

“THANK YOU!” Isabel found she had to slow down eventually, but walked quickly, much quicker than was at all comfortable. Eventually, she was in the flat. On her own. With the test in her shaking hands. She almost decided against it. But just this once, common sense took the reins.

 

She sat on the toilet seat, her hands clasp in prayer. But what for, even she didn't know.

 

Fifteen minutes had elapsed.

 

She turned it over.

 

“Oh my God.”

 

_Positive._

_Positive._

_**Positive.** _

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“She's not talking to you?”

“Not at all.”

“What are you going to do?”

“What can I do? My wife wont talk to me!”

“Are you going to get a divorce?” George squatted down on the floor and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Never. I never could.”

“She could.”

“She wouldn't, would she?” Edward shrugged his shoulders. “Oh, you are impossible, Ed.”

“It's not my fault your wife wont talk to you.” He suddenly had an impulsive desire to laugh, but thought it inappropriate, and kept it to himself.

“I know, it is completely my fault. I just, Ed I've dreamed of having children with her since I was... what...12?” Ed smiled sadly at his little brother.

“You love her, right? With... or without children?” George winced, but nodded. “Then tell, her George!”

“Oh! OH! You think I haven't tried!” Ed sat up in his seat, suddenly terrified by George. “You think I don't call her every hour, every minute, every second of the day!” He took his phone out of his back pocket as proof. “See, see?” George pushed it closer and closer to his brother's face. “162 calls in three hours!” Ed's eyes widened.

“Wow, that's...”

“Romantic?” His voice was full of hope.

“Excessive...” George's face fell. “Look, George. It's been hours. If this was a little thing, she would be back by now.” George tried to protest. “I promise George. You said you've been dreaming about having kids for what... fifteen years? You don't think she had the same dreams? This dream didn't come true, and that changes her whole life plan!”

“But...” Ed placed a finger over his brother's lips and continued.

“She wants space. Space is good! Give her space!”

“So, you're saying...”

“Don't call her, George.”

“Don't call?”

“Let her call you.”

“How do you know she will?” Ed smiled.

“If my experience has taught me right, she will.” George smiled, not entirely convinced.

 


	4. Chapter 4

_ **Chapter Four** _

 

Anne left the house, her hands shaking uncontrollably, her face twitching nervously. She knew exactly where she had to go, exactly what she had to say and do. But she was still nervous. 

 

_From: Margaret_

_Come. I want to talk._

 

Never had she been so afraid of two sentences. She thought she would get used to the frequent texts, demanding for her to come. She thought after a month or two, Margaret would warm to her, be like a mother to her in the absence of her son. But it had been almost three years. Three whole years of the constant torture. The constant reminder of what she did. As if she needed a reminder. As if she wasn't already ashamed. 

 

_Much Later..._

 

“Are you looking forward to Christmas, Anne?” There was no warmth in her voice, just a monotone machine sitting in front of her, making her more and more nervous. 

“Yes, just spending it with my sister this year...”

“My son loved Christmas.”

“Yes, I know.” 

“When he was little, he used to wake me and my husband up at four forty-four in the morning. He thought four was a special number for him. He loved it. I don't suppose you knew that about my son.” Anne shook her head slowly. “He would have been twenty four in three days. Three days, Christmas, you know.” Anne nodded. Margaret met her piercing eyes with Anne's timid ones. She titled her head like a bird of prey does with raw meat. “What did you know about my son, Anne?” Her eyes widened with every second of silence so Anne cleared her throat and began.

“Not much, I was only...” Anne paused. “I only knew him for a little while. Before...” Her voice wavered off. 

“Before he was brutally murdered, yes. But what did you know?” Anne cleared her throat again and racked her brain for something.

“Um.. he liked karaoke, and he was good too.” Margaret smiled slightly and closed her eyes, remembering her son. 

“More, Anne.”

“He, oh.. he liked sport, he used to play a lot of football.”

“More.” Anne started, without hesitation. 

“He had some really nice friends, who loved him lots. He was funny, made a lot of jokes.” Anne paused, swallowed the lump in her throat and spat out; “I liked him a lot.” Margaret sighed in satisfaction, opened her eyes, and almost smiled at Anne.

“He was a good boy, wasn't he, Anne?” Anne nodded lightly. Margaret repeated herself, a little louder. “Wasn't he, Anne?”

“Yes, Margaret. Yes he was.”

 

Eventually, Margaret let her go. She put her scarf on and wrapped her arms around herself. For the first time in four hours, took a deep breath and almost felt herself again. She felt sorry for Margaret, truly she did. But she wished she didn't have to go so often. And the visits were getting more frequent, for quite some time he had been all Anne could think about. He. Eddie Lancaster, coolest boy in school. Sporty, attractive and hilarious. And her first proper boyfriend. The more she went to Margaret's, the more her memories were twisted and warped into Margaret's version of the truth, which was for the most part, a blatant lie. But Anne knew one thing, Eddie Lancaster was not a good boy.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

 

Cicely York was never as happy as when all her children were around her. But now her youngest was in his twenties, and getting three grown boys into one room with no arguments was an unlikely thing. Yet here she was. Her and her three boys. Edward on one side, George on the other, and Richard in front of her. 

“Well this is very nice, isn't it?” She lay a hand on either side. She gained no response from her boys. “What is it, boys?” Her voice was full of terror. “What's happened?” George kissed her cheek smiled forcibly at his brothers, and left the room. “What is wrong with George?” Edward piped up.

“Isabel's moved in with Anne.” Her mouth dropped open.

“No!” Both her sons nodded. “Well, that's shocking! Why?” But no one replied, because they all knew exactly why. “Well, I think that's a shame, such a lovely girl.” 

 

The rest of the visit was laboured and awkward. For the first time in her life, Cicely was glad her sons were gone. For a while after they left, she sat in the sitting room, watching a T.V that wasn't playing. She wondered how different her life would have been if her husband was still alive. Would he sit with her now, ask her how her day went, kiss her goodnight? Although she had stopped talking about her husband and son's accident long ago, not a day went past in those last fourteen years when she hadn't thought of them. Wondered what they would have been doing and saying. Her son would have been thirty this year. What would he have done with his life? Would he have given up his ideas to be a musician and joined the law firm like the rest of them did? Would Richard, (her Richard, not her son) have retired early like he always said he would? 

 

The door suddenly banged open and there was Mary, phone in hand as normal, once again singing along to invisible tunes. Once she caught sight of her aunt she stopped and looked concerned. 

“Are you OK, Auntie?” Cicely hadn't noticed she was almost asleep. She reluctantly opened her eyes and smiled tiredly at her. 

“Tired is all, my lamb.” Mary smiled in response, but kept her concerned face on. Cicely slowly reached out to her. “Come here, my angel.” Mary came gladly, tucking herself comfortably under her aunt's arm. 

“Thank you for taking me in, Aunt. I know I'm hard to deal with.” Cicely squeezed her niece tighter. 

“Why would you think that?” 

“Because... that's what Bella says...” 

“Bella?” 

“I mean, Mum. But she prefers it when I call her Bella.” Cicely looked long and hard at her niece. She racked her brain for something to say, something that would comfort her. Something that would let Mary know that she knew what it felt like to be without love. But she found nothing. 

“I'm very glad you're here, I was terribly lonely without you.” And Mary snuggled deeper into her aunt's body and hardly said another word. Internally, Cicely berated herself for giving the poor girl such a flawed and cold response. Little did she know how much joy it had given Mary to hear those words. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“So... you left him?” Isabel sat, perched on the edge of her seat, twiddling her fingers nervously, to the extent you would think she was trying to sit an exam, or going for a job interview, you certainly wouldn't imagine that was the body of a woman having 'a nice cup of coffee with her mother.' But that was in fact exactly what she was doing. “Can't say I'm surprised. You always were neurotic, just like your grandmother.” Ann took another loud slurp of her tea. “And you're pregnant too?” Isabel nodded again. “Well, you're an idiot if you think you can make it on your own.” She gave a moment of pause for Isabel to interact, but receiving no response she turned her attentions to her younger, less manageable daughter, who was lolling on the sofa like she was in her own home. “And what about you?” She poked her head aggressively.

“What about me, Mum?”

“What are you doing, who are you dating, where are you working? I haven't talked to you in a while, I want to hear everything.” She lent forward, her eyes fixed on Anne, observing her every move. 

“I am literally doing nothing other than try and get a job, as you know my love life is non-existent and seeing as I am unemployed, I'm not working anywhere.” Ann sucked her teeth.

“I don't like your attitude.” Anne rolled her eyes, accidentally proving Anne's point. 

“Yeah, well... I don't like yours.” 

“And I don't see why you're unemployed anyway, there's jobs everywhere?”

“Where?” 

“Everywhere, Anne!” 

“Oh, be less specific, please!” Ann almost bared her teeth at Anne. 

“You've always had an attitude problem, always. And the only reason you ever come back here is because you want money...” Anne was properly angry now, her blood was boiling and her spirit was preparing itself for a shouting match. 

“When have I ever taken money off you?”

“I raised you, practically on my own! You should be more grateful!”

“Grateful? You treated me like I was dirt all my life, and now, just because I'm an adult I should be grateful? Grateful because you did the bear minimum for me?” Ann raised her hand and her daughter instinctively flinched. She grinned. 

“Stop it, stop it! Please, both of you!” They all sat down, still filled with fire. 

“Where's your dad?” Anne looked away. “Where's your daddy, Annie? Where was he?” She gradually got louder and louder. “WHERE IS HE?” Anne finally blew.

“HE'S DEAD, MUM!” Even Ann was taken aback. Isabel was practically trembling. Anne lost her will to fight. “He died, Mum. Eight years ago. And you still talk like it's a fresh wound!” 

“He used to help me..”

“No, he didn't. He was never here. And when he died, be honest, for once, Mum. Our lives hardly changed.”

“You drove him to his death, Anne. And now you're driving me to mine.” Anne shook her head slowly and sadly. 

“I didn't, Mum. You always blamed me, but it wasn't my fault he died. We can't blame anyone.” They all stood in silence for a minute. The room was deadly still. 

 

“I'll always blame you.” Anne gave in, picked up her bag, smiled at Isabel, and left the house. 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just basically an 'Anne Chapter'. It wasn't supposed to happen like that... Oh well! 
> 
> Enjoy!

_ **Chapter Five** _

 

_Nine days later..._

 

“ANNE!” Her heart leapt at the recognition of his voice, she spun around, waving madly. Within seconds, he had his arms around her, swaying from side to side. “It's so nice to see you!”

“You too, love!” He finally pulled away.

“What are you doing here?” She pulled a face and lifted up a carrier bag of brochures. 

“Brochures?”

“Job application brochures.” 

“Ah.” They hadn't realised they were holding hands. They pulled away, embarrassed. Anne laughed. “Well, do you have some time?” She laughed again. 

“I can assure you Richard, time is one thing I have plenty of.” Richard smiled and gestured towards a coffee shop. “OK, but you're paying...” 

“I never doubted it for a moment.”

 

They stayed for well over two hours, sharing anything and everything they could. But eventually, the topic came onto Isabel, as it inevitably would. 

 

“So, she's staying with you?” Anne took another sip of coffee and nodded an affirmative. “Is she well?” Anne's mind blanked. _Should she tell him?_ Her memory flicked back to Isabel's last words. _'Don't you dare mention it to anyone, Anne. ANYONE.'_

“She's well. But she just...”

“..needs some time alone, we all get it. Though, Mum was extremely saddened.”

“As was I.”

“George misses her too. He hasn't been functioning properly without her.” Anne raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Oh yeah, the house is a mess and he's just been drowning himself in that wine he always drinks.” Anne pulled a face at the memory and Richard laughed softly at her. “I wish I could say he wasn't sulking, but I think that's exactly how I would describe it.” 

“I always thought he would be all right on his own.”

“So did I, but apparently not.” Anne shook her head as she said;

“I truly can't believe it happened.”

“I know, right? We all thought they were so stable...” 

 

He thought she was talking about George and Isabel, and Anne wasn't stupid enough to correct him. 

 

Many hours later, they found themselves at Richard's flat, a description of a bachelor pad, filled with shiny gadgets and black leather furniture.

“And you own this?” 

“All of it.” Anne gasped in disbelief. 

“You are twenty-three! How is it possible you have this much?” He lent seductively forward and whispered;

“My daddy's rich.” she laughed, loudly. He smiled warmly at her, it had been a while since he had seen her this relaxed. “Come, Anne. Sit.” He patted the seat next to him. She almost suspiciously perched herself on the edge of his sofa. He ignored her attempt at civility and pulled her down next to him, her head on his chest. Although at first alarmed, Anne grew to enjoy it and they soon began chatting normally. 

 

“Are you doing anything for your birthday?”

“Ah, the big 2-2!”

“So, are you?” Anne pulled a face.

“Who would I invite? You, Isabel, your brothers... though probably not George.. your mother...”

“Friends?” Anne pulled another face. “Seriously?” 

“My whole life so far has been centred around family!”  
“But that's good, isn't it?” She looked at him scornfully. 

“You've met my mother, right?” Richard looked away, mocking embarrassment. 

“Yes, Mum did tell me of your little...” 

“...Shouting match?”

“I was going to say disagreement...” Anne scoffed. “But yours seems more accurate.”

“Can you blame me, the woman's a monster!” Richard laughed, but his words almost scolded.

“She can't help the way she is, Anne. She's...” Anne repeated the words she'd heard since she was a child.

“...not well, I know.” Richard looked embarrassed. “Does that give her rights to be...” Richard lay her head down again and stroked her hair. 

“I know, I know Anne.” She had tears in her eyes, and suddenly felt like she was too big to be soothed and settled on Richard's lap.

“Do you?” 

“I do. I know exactly.” 

 

Because he did. 

 

Anne woke up on Richard's sofa, her cheek stuck to the leather. She opened her eyes, wondering desperately where her phone was and whether Izzy was worried. And then she saw him, still asleep on the chair opposite her, his head titled back, his feet curled under him. Her heart imploded. 

“Richard?” She had whispered it, but his eyes immediately fluttered open, as if he hadn't been asleep at all. He smiled with exhaustion. He croaked;

“What, love?” 

“I'll have to go...” He was bolt upright. Suddenly running fingers through his curly (and un-brushed) hair. 

“Are you sure? Do you want a ride?” 

“Don't worry, Richard. I'll be fine. But I do have to go back, I was out all night.” He laughed softy and rubbed his eyes.

“Your bags on that table.” He lazily pointed at a table near the front door. 

“Thanks, Sweetie. It was lovely to see you.” 

 

She was at the door, seconds... moments away from leaving. 

 

And then she felt his hands on her waist, but barely had time to register them before he had twisted her round, his hands now on either side of her face, his lips on hers. Her whole body was on fire. Her hands went to his neck and he moaned. His hands slipped down to her slender waist, pulling her closer.

 

She pulled away. She flung his door open and escaped, with tears in her eyes. He called out to her, but she ignored him, blocked him out. _Why would he have done that?_

 

She should have gone home, Isabel would have been worried. But there was somewhere she had to be.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

 

Elizabeth hadn't been to Tewkesbury Cemetery very often, although she felt like maybe she should. When her son had first died, she hadn't quite believed it, kept expecting him to run in, laughing and smiling like he used to. But after a while she realised fully that he was truly dead, and plunged into depression and barely left the house. It had only been recently she had felt ready to see her baby's grave. 

“Liz?” A soft voice came from behind her, the warmth of a hand seeped through her thin layers of material. It was only then she realised she was crying, and that Anne was standing before her, looking a mixture of terror and sympathy. 

“Hello Anne.” Her voice was rough and croaky. “What are you doing here?”

“I have a...friend. Here.” Liz nodded and turned herself back to face the grave. Anne joined her. She read the inscription.

 

_In Loving Memory Of_

_Richard York – Rivers, 2008-2012_

_A beloved son and brother._

 

“Did you ever know what happened, Anne?” Liz looked down at her, tears still crystallising her eyes.

“I remember your kid was at Flanders.” The hospital for kids with no hope. 

“He was there almost his entire life, until...” She finally broke down, sobbing manically. Through her tears she sobbed; “Until...” Anne wrapped her softly in her arms.

“I know, I remember.” Richard had died seven months ago, at only four years old. 

 

They stood with each other, holding each other for some time, longer than either originally planned. 

“What about you, Anne?” Elizabeth finally pulled away and brushed her crystal tears away from her face. Anne furrowed her brow and tilted her head, not understanding the question. Liz saw her mistake and rephrased it. “Where is your friend?” Anne tried to wave it off, but Elizabeth insisted. “You saw my grief, now I can see yours!” She laughed lightly, but you could tell every merry sound made her heart crack. 

 

_In memoriam amantem_

_Edouardus Lancastrium_

_MCMXC - MMVII_

_A fortis et Heros_

 

Liz saw it, and couldn't hide her surprise. 

“Is it in...?”

“Latin? Yeah.” Liz tilted her head, as if it could make more sense from the side. “It translates to; In fond remembrance of Edward Lancaster, 1990 to 2007. A warrior and a hero.” Liz raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, Eddie was a lot of things, including pompous. But modest, he certainly wasn't.” Liz sniggered. 

“Was he your boyfriend?” 

“He was.” Liz touched the date and sighed. 

“Seventeen years old. What a waste of life.” She sighed again and smiled at Anne, as warmly as she could before saying. “How did he die?” Without hesitation Anne replied. 

“He was attacked.” Liz closed her eye lids and sighed a third time. 

“Why is the world filled with such cruel things, Anne?” Liz stood up, her eyes still closed and reached for Anne's hand.

“I don't know.”

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

_ **Chapter Six** _

 

“It's your turn Uncle Richard.” He woke from his daydream, smiled at his niece, and rolled the dice. 

 

He bought Bond Street. 

 

“Are you all right?” No he wasn't. It had been more than six hours since Anne had pushed him away and run out of that door, yet the memory was as fresh as if it was still happening. 

“Yes, I'm fine.” Beth wrinkled her nose and looked at her Uncle. He had worry lines that hadn't been there yesterday, he hadn't shaved or brushed his hair, and however much she loved him, she couldn't deny that his breath smelt appalling.

“It's because of Anne, isn't it?” He jumped at the sound of her name, but huffed a negative. She sighed, as if exhausted from his nonsense. “Yes it is. It always is, whenever you look like that it's because of her and...” 

“Look, Beth! Just play your turn!” He laughed and ruffled her golden hair. She frowned and patted it down again. As she rolled the dice she said,

“Who do you love more, her or me?” Richard laughed, but Beth looked him steadily in the eye, waiting for his answer. 

“You, of course.” Beth grinned, showing every single one of her pearly teeth. 

“Would you put Anne aside for me?” Richard sighed with exasperation. 

“She's not...” He stopped, seeing her tense up at the sound of a raised voice. “Of course I would.” She smiled and shyly looked away.

“Thank you.” 

“Always.” They played, almost silently for a while before she said;

“Is Aunt Isabel coming home?” The corners of his mouth turned up. 

“I don't know, Beth.” 

“It's been twelve days...” 

“How do you know that?” She tilted her head down and shrugged her shoulders, but Richard could see she was smiling, cheekily. He let it go and rolled the dice.

“He misses her.”

“He does.” She sighed heavily, as if the whole world was on her tiny, slopping shoulders.

“He's an idiot then. For letting her go.” Richard meant to protest, but instead answered her;

“It's your turn.” She rolled. “Do you miss Aunt Isabel?” She nodded readily. 

“I miss her loads. When her and George used to visit, she would come up and see us all and...” Her voice petered of and he felt suddenly alarmed.

“And what?” She brought her head up, stared him dead in the eye and spoke.

“She was nice to Bridget.”she almost felt ashamed for having said it. 

 

No one was nice to Bridget. Except for her and Cece. Cece pretended that they were her mums instead, and Beth played it too. But Beth could also see her mother's disdain for her final child. How she hardly picked her up, or played with her. She often told Beth to quieten her in a way she hadn't done when she was growing up. And Beth was stupid enough not to see the way every time Bridget gurgled or laughed (or spat, which she did quite a lot..) her mother would wince. As if it pained her to see happiness in her child. 

 

They had sat in silence for a while. For a long while. 

“Your parents have had a really tough time, recently...” Beth rolled her eyes.

“Yeah! I know!” Richard immediately regretted it. 

“I'm sorry Beth.” Beth couldn't hide the disappointment in her voice.

“It doesn't matter. Just play the game.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Edward lay opposite Jane, who was still lightly dozing. He caressed her cheek and ran his fingers over her mouth. She sighed happily, but moved away at his touch. She sat up, wrapping the sheet around her.

“Jane, what is it?” She turned to face him, her eyes filled with sadness.

“Why are you doing this, Ed?”

“What do you mean?” She scoffed.

“You know exactly what I mean.” She replied with scorn. “Why are you doing this to her?” 

“I don't have to answer to you.” He slid out of the bed and began to put on his jeans.

“Don't you?” He turned slightly towards the sound of her soft, lilting voice. 

“You could refuse to see me. You could stop this.” He turned fully, his eyes on fire. “You're the one whose doing this to her.” Her eyes dropped down with guilt. 

“I love you.” His eyes flickered away.

“Don't you dare, Jane.” He stood up.

“I can't help it.” She softly whispered. His voice was filled with anger.

“Try.” He made for the door. She pulled a pillow from under her and threw it at him.

“How can I ever try, when you always come back? YOU ALWAYS COME BACK, ED!” In a fit of passion, he leapt on the bed, pushed her down. 

 

She let him.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

She'd been at the doctor's this morning. 

 

She was five and a half weeks pregnant. 

 

She couldn't quite believe it. 

 

Anne had been with her, had held her hand and hugged her. But Anne had gone out in a hurry, and now she was quite on her own in the flat. (Flat being Anne's bedsit with two rooms, one being a bathroom). 

 

_I could call him. I should call him. I could tell him. I should tell him. I could go back to him._

 

She felt her mobile phone in her back pocket, burning her through her layers of winter clothing. _He_ was one button away. One button, and everything she had been worrying about would stop. She reached out for the phone, had it in her hands. 

 

And hid it in a flower pot. 

 

_My baby needs a father. My baby deserves a father. I want a father for my baby._

 

But the phone remained in the plant pot for the remainder of the day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“Hmm. Your energy is strong. Very strong.” She closed her eyes as she felt her visitor's clammy hands. “Very strong. Now you've got a boyfriend, yes?” She heard her client humming, which she took as a yes. “You've been with him for a while, and you want to settle down?” Another hum. Jacqueline opened her eyes and smiled down at her guest. “Go home, child. He's waiting for you.” Her visitor squealed and ran out of the room, almost bumping into Liz as she left. “Poor child. He's never going to marry _her._ ” She caught sight of her daughter and smiled. “Ah, daughter!” She motioned to the chair in front of her. “Come, sit. Let me feel your energy.” Liz rolled her eyes, but took the seat. 

“Hi Mum.”

“So, you've come about Edward, yes?” Liz rolled her eyes again.

“Don't pretend like you 'felt' that, I called you like an hour ago telling you I wanted to talk to you about my husband.” Her mother raised her hands as if to say, 'fair enough' and dropped her 'wishy washy' voice that she put on for clients. Now, one thing you could always say about Jacqueline Rivers, was that she wasn't one to beat around the bush, or sugar coat anything. So she came out and said it.

“He hasn't stop sleeping with his secretary?” Liz was taken slightly aback, but appreciated her blunt approach and nodded. “Well he always was one to be dragged round by the-”

“Please stop it, Mum.” 

“I'm just saying, you always knew he wasn't big on – monogamy...”

“Are you seriously defending him?”

“No! Of course not! You are my daughter and I love you, but I've been through every single one of your arguments, with every single one of your boyfriends. And I have to say, both you and I know that... Edward was a flight risk.”

“A flight risk, Mum?”

“You know what I mean, love.”

“What should I do, Mum?” 

“Leave him.” Liz violently shook her head.

“No.”

“Fine, forgive him.” Liz scoffed and laughed mockingly.

“Yeah, like I'm going to do that!” Jacqueline threw her hands up.

“Liz, do you think this is the first time? The only one he's done this?” Lizzie looked away, trying her best not to feel hurt. “Why is this time different?” 

“I don't know, Mum.” 

 

But she did. 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Mary couldn't sleep. She'd given up trying. 

 

She didn't miss Norfolk. She didn't miss anything about it. Why would she? She obviously wasn't wanted! As she had been often informed, she had been 'a happy accident'. Although, perhaps less of the happy. She knew why she'd been sent to her aunt's. Despite what people believed, she wasn't entirely stupid. 

 

At last, she gave in. In an attempt not to wake her aunt she quietly tip-toed over to the door, opened it – cringing at it's hideous creak and slipped down the stairs to the living room. 

 Much to her surprise she saw her aunt there, sitting in front of the T.V, obviously paying no attention to it whatsoever, her eyes red and almost closed. Mary was about to leave when her Aunt softly called her.

“Mary, please come in, my love.” So Mary stayed. After almost half an hour of silence, Cicely began to cry. Mary flew to her, horrified.

“Aunt, what happened?” Her aunt tried to wave it off, but didn't have the energy to hold in her tears.

“Old wounds, darling. Old wounds.” Mary wrapped both her arms around the woman's neck, but honestly had no idea what to do.

“Why don't you tell me?” Cicely tried to protest, but relented easily.

“Do you remember your Uncle and cousin?” Mary shook her head.

“I was very young, when they...” Ciecly winced, but continued. 

“They had gone to pick up Richard from school.” She smiled at the distant memory. “Edmund was so excited! He was learning to drive. Mary sat up, almost afraid of what was about to be said. Apparently Cicely didn't notice and kept her eyes on the screen. “He drove the car off the road.. Richard – my husband, died on impact. But my son...” she clutched her stomach, as if it made her sick to think about it. “He died four days later, a whole four days, Mary!” with every word she hit the cushion lying beside her. “No one deserves to see their son like that.”Mary nodded, too confused to speak. 

“Why was I never told any of this?” Cicely blew hair away from her face, but said nothing. Mary repeated her question.

“Because, my dear.” Cicely sounded exhausted. “Because we never talk about it, for Richard's sake.”

“Your husband's?”

“My son's, dearest.”

“He's not to blame?”  
“No, of course not. But he takes these things to heart. He truly believes that he was the cause.”

“But why?” Cicely laughed, but without any joy in her tone. 

“God knows. He's a sensitive soul. He was only nine when they died. He grew up without a father's influence, much less than the others.” Mary fell back on the cushions.

“That's terrible.” 

“Certainly is, my flower.”

 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

George let out a growl/cry that was filled with such despair the whole bar turned to stare. Edward patted him on the back, stared at those who were until they turned away and order another drink for his poor little brother. 

“No word, huh?” George shook his head, and groaned again. Edward, feeling slightly uncomfortable and out of his depth, ruffled his brother's hair. George sat up, and narrowed his eyes at Edward. 

“How old do you think I am?” Edward laughed, screwing his face up in an attempt not to. 

“Sorry. How long has it been?” 

“ Two weeks.” Edward sucked his teeth. 

“Woah.” 

“Yeah.”  
“I never knew she had it in her.” George whacked him over the head. “Or you!” 

 

The new round of drinks appeared. 

“Drink, Georgie.” George shook his head. Edward's mouth dropped. “Are you refusing to drink?” George scorned him with his eyes, but was secretly impressed himself. Ed slapped him on the back, and took a long swig. It was then he caught sight of a young, pretty girl staring dreamily at his little brother. He grinned. He nudged George and whispered not so subtly in his ear. “Ready to move on?”

“What?” Edward nodded his head towards the girl who laughed nervously and looked away. 

“Two weeks, Georgie!” 

“I know!” Edward nodded towards her again. George finally 'got' it. He got up, looking with disgust at his brother. “You've got to be joking! Wasn't it you telling me, about how you messed everything up with Liz by doing...” He motioned towards the girl angrily, who was rapidly looking more and more embarrassed. “...stuff like that!” 

“What are you on about?” Everyone's eyes were on them now. 

“When was the last time you talk to Liz, huh? When was the last time you thought about how you affect her, and have acted on it! At least I will do anything to win back my wife!”

“I didn't lose my wife George!”

“No! But you lost your son!” Edward heart jumped to his throat. “You complain that she doesn't want to do anything 'fun' anymore, have you ever thought maybe that's because she's grieving, Ed? Or maybe just the fact that she's an adult with four children?”

“Can you just stop shouting?” Edward lent towards George, in a half hearted attmept to diffuse the argument. George was calming down, slightly. He lent forward, his face uncomfortably close to Edward's. 

“You're a sleeze, Edward. And you're a coward. And whether she's left you or not, you've lost your wife as much as I have. No, not as much as I have, because I am willing to devote my entire being to getting her back.” 

 

Suddenly the bar was silent. 

_Stupid George. Stupid George. I haven't lost Liz, of course I haven't. I can call her, anytime I want – right now, for example._ He downed another drink and sloppily dragged his phone out of his pocket. He scrolled down his contacts and he called her. After three rings, she picked up. He suddenly felt very drunk.

“Hey Elizabeth! My darling angel of a wife!” He slurred. He heard her sigh. When she replied her voice was tired, but determinded, a little like the Lizzie had had met and known and loved. 

“Edward...”

“I love you, Lizzie!” She sighed again, this was harder than it was 'supposed' to be. 

“Edward, where are you?”

“Why, where should I be?” She sighed again. 

“Edward, I have to say something.”

“I'm listening.” He was in fact ordering another round of drinks while he finished the last one. 

“I want a divorce.” He heard a cry from behind him, and someone poking his back, he turned, full of anger.

“WHAT?” 

“Are you OK? Your hand...” They looked don and he looked down too, to see his bloody hand, and the remains of a glass poking into it. He brought the phone back to his ear with him good hand calmly. 

“Liz, honey? I'm going to have to call you back.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

 

_Message received: 12:38_

_You will die for what you did._

 

_Message received: 12:39_

_Don't ever think you got away with it. I know everything now._

 

_Message received: 12:42_

_Answer your phone. You can't hide from me. I have you exactly where I want you._

 

_Answer your phone._

 

_Message received 12:43_

_You are evil, you will burn. I will make you burn. You wont be free until you beg for_

_forgiveness. But my son and I deserve better than you. You killed my son._

 

_Message received 12:44_

_You killed my son._

 

Anne had stopped reading them, they all said similar things. However the sound of each coming through set her teeth on edge. Eventually, she saw enough was enough. She threw on her coat and scarf, and on a second though grabbed her phone and plunged it into her pocket. 

 

She didn't know where to go, who she could talk to. So she walked, round and round the streets she knew so well, wondering when this madness would stop. 

 

_Message received 13:12_

_You killed my son._

 

She didn't know how Margaret had found out. Found out the dirty little secret she had worked so hard to keep for six years. 

 

_I didn't mean to do it. I was scared. I was fifteen. A child! I didn't mean to kill him. But he was so horrible. He made my life miserable. I couldn't risk my life to save his. But I wish I had now, because my life was never the same after. Everything changed. Everything._

 

_And now everyone will know._

 

“Watch out!” A voice from behind her called. She turned to the noise of the voice. She only just had time to register an anxious face of a passer by, her outstretched hands. 

 

Only moments to register her feet and the fact they were in the road. 

 

No time at all to see the car that was rapidly approaching her.

 

 

Then it went black.


	8. Chapter 8

_ **Chapter Eight** _

 

“I have to say, I am not a huge one for blind dates. But I have to say, Edward spoke very highly of you!” She lent on her hand and laughed softly, trying to look lovingly into his eyes. Richard hastily broke the eye contact and searched the restaurant for a waiter. “So tell me, Richard.” He paused, feeling her foot lightly strokinging his calf. _Oh God, this is awkward. No wonder Edward likes her._ ”You are Eddie's baby brother?” He smiled awkwardly and quickly nodding, and still looking for a waiter. 

 

Eventually, a waiter came to him.

“Excuse me, sir. There is a call for you.” He was out of his chair quicker than he'd ever run before. 

 

“Hello?”

“Hello, Mr York. I understand you know Anne Nevile?”  
“Yes, of course.” He was suddenly terrified by her patronising tone.

“My name is Alice Fitz-Hugh, I am a nurse at Warick Hospital. I'm afraid Anne has had an accident.” His heart sunk lower than he thought possible. “I understand that you might be able to visit her? We need someone to run over some details with us.” 

“Yes, of course. Is she all right?”

“This is not a conversation we should have on the phone.”

 

His heart sunk even lower.

 

He hung up the phone and came out again, catching sight of his date, who was sinking further and further back in her chair, looking bored out her mind.

“Really sorry.” She looked up, but didn't bother to smile. “I have to go.”

“You have to go?” Her face was clearly not amused. 

“Yeah, sorry. See you around.” He tried to leave.

“But, why?” He turned around, with a thousand answers to her questions, none of them really suitable for the occasion. 

“Because...” He shrugged. “My friend's in the hospital.” He turned again, but she wasn't ready to say goodbye.

“Why can't she – I'm guessing it's a she, right? Why can't she call someone else?” He furrowed his brow.

“Because she wanted to call me.”

“Who is she?” 

“Why would that matter-” She closed her eyes and shook her head.

“No, I mean, who is she to you?” He stammered and she raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow. 

“She's the love of my life.”

 

He ran.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Warwick Hospital wasn't far. He was there soon enough, basically having run all the way. He came to reception, panting and (unfortunately) sweating rather badly. 

“I'm here... to... to...” He thought his heart was going to burst from the exersice. “to.. see...”

“Yes?” He caught his breath, pulled himself to his full height and spoke calmly.

“To see Anne Neville.”

“Anne Neville?” A voice came from behind him and he spun round to the sight of a blond nurse with a kind face and short hair walking towards him. “Richard York?” He nodded. She took his hand and shook it. “We spoke on the phone.” Suddenly his 'shyness' was overcome by concern for Anne.

“Where is she?” She smiled sadly.

“Come with me.”

 

They stood outside her door. He was just about to go in when she called his name.

“Excuse me sir. Would you mind answering a few questions? She has been unconcious since she came in.” 

“Of course. But why me?” Alice looked down at her paperwork.

“Well you are her 'in case of emergancy' contact. So we called you.” He suddenly felt elated and almost giddy, but was still in the dark about her 'accident'. 

“What happened to her?”

“I'm afraid she was involved in a traffic accident.” He knew from experience that was fancy talk for 'hit by car'. 

“How?” She smiled sadly and shrugged her shoulders simultainiously. 

 

After a while, Richard was allowed into her room. When he saw her, he took a sharp intake of breath. She looked so vunrable, so innocent with her bruises and her tubes. He couldn't bare it. There was a chair by the side of the bed and he took it, taking her bruised hand also, stroking it gently with his thumb. That was when her phone buzzed with the tone of a text. He picked it up, shocked by the number of missed calls and texts. _Could it be Isabel?_ Feeling guilty, but determinded, he unlocked the phone and read the text. 

 

He only needed to read one. 

 

_Message received 14:18_

_You will die. You will die for killing my son._

 

He froze, only moving his eyes from Anne's sleeping form to the phone in his free hand with only one thought in his mind:

 

_What the hell is going on?_

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

She could barely keep her eyes open. She had stayed awake all night, just staring at the papers, still un-signed by both parties. 

 

She had meant to sign them. She had. She wanted to have signed them last night and to have posted them to Ed this morning. 

 

But something had stopped her, and she was just staring at them instead. 

 

_He doesn't deserve your pity, Liz. He never did. You should have done this ages ago. You should never have married him at all._

 

She let the voices wash over her, but still did nothing. 

 

“Mum. There's a lady at the door.” Liz woke from her daydream and looked at her daughter, wondering what happened to her little baby Beth. 

“Let her in, would you love?” Beth left the doorway and Liz smoothed her hair, wondering what her face must look like. 

 

She didn't hear them come in. 

 

Elizabeth first caught sight of her shoes, just black ballet pumps, but unlike any that belonged to this house. The her eyes slid slowly up the rest of the woman, thin legs, knee length skirt, duffle coat, striped scarf.

 

Red hair and peircing green eyes. 

 

Then she knew exactly who she was. 

 

“How dare you come into my home, where my children and I live? How dare you, you common slut?” She practically flew at Jane, almost forgetting her own daughter's presence in the room. 

“Please, Elizabeth!” Her hands went to her face, in an effort to protect herself. Elizabeth stopped, but Jane continued to cower in the corner of the room. Elizabeth almost felt maternal to her.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice was almost soft. Jane went to answer, but at that moment, Edward – Liz's little boy and Cece ran in.

“Mummy! Cecilia says that-” Edward stopped at the noise of crying and looked to his mother. Who was looking at Jane. Who was looking at Edward and howling as if she was a child. Liz shooed her children out of the room and lent down to Jane, ginerly putting a hand on her arm.

“What is it?” She couldn't be warm, but tried her bst to sound comforting, seeing as she was lying on her kitchen floor, weeping.

“My baby boy!” Liz's heart stopped. “He's gone! He's gone!” Jane continued to howl, tears streaming down her face. Liz still hated her. She had to, her Woodville pride. She couldn't help think 'if it wasn't for this woman, you wouldn't be spilting from Ed'. But she was human. So she wrapped Jane in her arms, and rocked her back and forth for a very long time. 

 

A long while after, Jane's face still red, they sat at the kitchen table. Jane blew on her tea and looked shyly at Elizabeth.

“I knew you would be lovely.” Elizabeth couldn't meet her eyes. Jane looked back at her tea and bent her head down in embarrasment. “I came because... I wanted to explain it to you.” Liz narrowed her eyes but Jane continued. “When I was fifteen, I found out I was pregnant.” Elizabeth looked down at her, this was not the explanation she was expecting. “It was terrible, my boyfriend left me. My friends... said...” Jane winced at the memory. “...terrible things about me and my baby. My family were... a little more supportive. But they encouraged my to... give my baby up at birth. They found a family, long time married but with no children. I had my baby...” She began to cry again. “They didn't let me hold him! Not even for a second!” Liz's face remained cold and stern. What did Jane expect her to do? Forgive her? Jane looked up at her, eyes staring beseechingly. “I was fifteen!”

“Does this give you the right to sleep with my husband?” Elizabeth had to admit it, the girl looked crestfallen.

“Of course not. No. Never.” She ran her fingers round the rim of her cup, trying to buy herself time to think of an excuse.

“Then why did you?” Jane looked up again, her voice and face steady now. 

“I came to work at your husband's offices while your child was sick...” Liz winced.

“I know.” 

“Edward would come into the office, looking so broken.” Liz had been so caught up in her own grief, she had barely noticed Edward. “ I always wondered why. And then there was this one night when we were the only ones there. So I asked him, and he told me.” Jane rested her hand on Elizabeth's, but Elizabeth pushed her off angrily. “I'm so sorry Elizabeth.” She rested her hands in her lap respectfully. “But he had felt my pain, and when I told him... he understood, and we shared it...” Jane was going to continue, but Elizabeth stopped her dead.

“He shouldn't have been sharing it with you, Jane.”

“I know.”

“I think you should leave.” Jane nodded.

 

Liz barely registered her departure. 

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

Cicely stood outside the Neville house, almost wondering why she came. She had remained civil to Ann for the sake of peace, and for hardly any other reason. But what was the point in being civil now? All hell had broken loose. Edward was getting a divorce, George was pining for Isabel and her baby Richard, well who knows what was ailing him? All sorts of things normally. At the moment it was Annie in the hospital, which, (Cicely reminds herself) is why she's here.

“Who is it?” Ann's voice was low and bitter, as per usual.

“It's Cicely, Ann. I thought I'd pop round for a bit of a chat.” She could hear Ann groaning from the inside and then reply.

“Yes of course, sounds lovely.”

 

“I suppose you've heard about Isabel.” Cicely nodded. 

“It's such a shame.” Ann rolled her eyes. “I always thought they were so in love.” Ann sat up from her lounging position and stared into Cicely's eyes.

“Oh, you mean the split? I thought you meant the baby!” Cicely tilted her head in confusion.

“You mean, that they can't...”

“I mean that Isabel's pregnant!” Cicely's mouth practically hit the floor.

“She's what?”Ann raised her eyebrow in surprise, knowing quite well that Isabel hadn't told anyone. 

“You mean you didn't know? She's a stupid girl, doesn't know what's good for her.”

“Izzy's pregnant!” Cicely laughed in disbelief. “I can't believe it!” Ann lay back once more, sighing in exhaustion. 

“Nor can I, she's been barren as an old woman for years, and as soon as she leaves him, poof, there's a baby!” Cicely tutted.

“That's hardly fair, Ann.” Ann sighed and closed her eyes. “Your daughters are both...” 

“Speaking of, have you heard from the other one?” 

“What, Anne?” Ann rolled her eyes.

|”Yes, obviously Anne!” Cicely's eyes widened.

“Haven't you heard?”

“Probably not, don't you remember, Cicely? I live in _sanctuary._ Saves me from having to listen to my family's pathetic stories..” Cicely bit her lip and looked anxious. “Well, go on then, what is it?”

“Anne's in the hospital.” Ann's face remained unchanged. There was a long silence.

“Really?” Cicely nodded, amazed at Ann's level of cruelty. “How?” 

“She was hit by a car!” Ann's eyes widened slightly, but mockingly. Which is why Cicely was so surprised when Ann said almost nervously.

“Is Anne all right. I don't actually wish her-” 

“I know.” Ann smiled sadly at Cicely. “You should come visit her.” Ann nodded and laughed.

“She doesn't want me there.”

“You'll never know until you try.” Ann smiled absent mindedly, but shook her head. “Well, I'm going now. Are you sure you don't want to come with me?” 

“Maybe later.” Cicely smiled and left the room.

 

Ann took the phone off the hook and went to her alcohol cabinet.

 

Because you can't win every war.

 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Isabel felt sick, really sick. She really hoped this would pass. But right now, she just had to bite her lip and hold her breath because it was Anne now. Anne who needed the attention. Not that she could tell how much attention she was getting. She still hadn't opened her eyes. But they were all there, except for the obvious few. Richard was there, and had been for a really long time. Liz was there, for some unknown reason and had brought Beth with her, who was sniffing like Anne was dying. _Was Anne dying? Oh why wouldn't she wake up?_ Cicely was coming, and presumably bringing Mary with her. And George was coming. _George was coming_. She was almost too embarrased to face him. Thankfully, he wouldn't notice the bump, because it wasn't there yet. Isabel tried not to be worried. She was only eight weeks pregnant. 

 

Isabel shook all 'selfish' thoughts out of her mind and took her sister's pale and thin hand. She looked so vunrable, it terrified Isabel. Anne had always been her baby sister, and they had grown up in a war zone of their own, so it had always been her job to take care of her. Without meaning to, Isabel began to shake with tears. After a few moments of akward silence, Isabel felt a warm hand on her shoulder. She turned at the touch to see Liz's almost kind face staring down at her. 

“I'm sorry, I don't know-” Liz hushed her and sqatted down to her level.

“She'll be fine Isabel.” Isabel was about to respond when the door flew open to expose George, face red with exercise. 

 

Isabel's heart stopped. 

 

_She loved him. She loved him. What was she doing?_

 

They stared at each other for a very long time. After a long while, George spoke.

“I heard about Anne, and I came as quick as I could – Isabel, I...” She couldn't take it. She suddenly burst into a sob and ran out of the room into the waiting room. As she passed George he looked longingly at her, but did nothing, having entered into an almost trance like state.

 

He awoke to the feeling of a hard slap on the arm. He looked up at his 'attacker' to see Elizabeth's stern and accusing face looking down at him.

“I'm sorry?” He rubbed his arm.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” George stammered.

“I'm... uh... visiting my unconcious sister in law?” Elizabeth tutted but laughed. 

“Go and get your wife back, Idiot!” George looked sadly at her.

“Liz, she doesn't want me to.” Liz rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, 'cause that's the face of a woman who isn't madly in love with her donkey of a husband!” 

 

He was out of there before she even had time to finish her insult. 

 

Liz laughed softly, all of a sudden feeling blessed for having met this family.

“Mum?” She looked down at her daughter. 

“Uh huh?”

“Are we going home now?” 

“No, love. We are going to wait for Anne.” 

“No, Mum. I mean are we going home to Grafton?” Elizabeth was confused.

“Why would we go back there?”  
“Because you and Dad...” Elizabeth knelt down to her daughter, clasp her face in her hands and kissed her rosy cheeks. 

“I'll fix something, Love. I always do.” She was going to stand up when Beth spoke again.

“Is it my fault?” There were tears in her eyes. “Is it my fault that you and Dad are-” Elizabeth shook her head violently. 

“Of course not. It's no one's fault.”

 

They both knew it was a lie.

 

 

“Go away, George!” 

“I can't!” 

“Why not?” She turned and gasped, George was crying too. _George never cries._ In all the years she had know him, which was literally since birth, she had only ever seen him cry once. The day he found out his dad had died. He had wept bitterly then. And here he was, standing in front of her, tears streaming down his face. All she wanted to do was go to him, and make everything all right again. But something made her hold back, kept her from running into his arms. 

“Because I love you, Izzy. I've loved you from the moment you were born- wait that's a lie, but I've loved you since at least 1990 and I-” She couldn't help but laugh through her tears. He laughed too, but continued. “And I can't let you go without a fight, so-” He got down on one knee, suddenly attracting the attention of the entire waiting room. 

“George what are you-” He raised a finger to his lips and began.

“I can't sleep. I can't eat. The house is suddenly huge, Izzy. I just walk around all day in the silence without my shoes on, just like you always wanted me to do. I miss your mess. I miss the sound of you in the morning when you get in the shower and hum really loudly.” Izzy unfolded her arms and took a step forward. “I miss the smell of your food and the smell of your shampoo. I miss your towels, and the fact that you always left them on the stairs. I miss your face when you do that really annoying thing when you like scruch it up, you know? When you're angry or concentraiting? And I miss...” She went to him, she put her hands in his. She looked up at him, his eyes melting any ice left in her heart. “...I miss you Iz.” 

“I miss you too.” They smiled at each other. “You can stand up if you want.” He really did, because this was incredibly embarrassing and his knee were really hurting. But he shook his head. 

“Not until I ask you: Isabel Neville, will you do me the honour of being my wife?”

“Again?” He rolled his eyes fondly and corrected himself.

“Again.” She began to laugh. 

“Yes.” He stood up and swept her off her feet nuzzling his head in between her neck and shoulder. “All you had to do was ask nicely.” She smiled cheekily at him and for the first time in almost a month, felt completely whole again.

 


	10. Chapter 10

Anne moaned. Her head hurt, her legs hurt, and she was suddenly very aware of her feet. Her eyes fluttered open, and suddenly an aray of faces were peering down at her. 

“Where... where... am...” A nurse suddenly entered the room and shooed everyone away from her bed. 

“Please, please. She needs some air.” After a few moments, everyone left the room, having been practically hearded out by the nurse. All except one, that is.

“Can I please stay with her?” 

“Sir, I don't think-” 

“Please.” The nurse grumbled something about 'stupid teenagers' and after a few more 'proding' tests, left the room. 

“What happened?”

“You got - hit by a car.” 

“Wow.”

“Yeah.” Her phone buzzed and they both instinctively looked to it. He went to pick it up.

“Don't touch that!” 

“Anne-” 

“It's private, Richard.” He took a deep breath.

“Anne, I read them.” Her eyes widened. 

“You read them?” 

“Well, some of them.” She looked away. “Enough of them.” 

“Well, I bet you have a couple of questions...”

“A few.” They sat in silence. 

“You shouldn't have read them, Richard.” 

“I thought it was a text from Isabel.”

“Still.” Silence fell again. 

“Anne, who is she?” Anne's mouth remained shut. “Anne?” She turned on him filled with anger.

“You don't have to know everything, Richard! Especially-” She broke out into a sob and he stared at her in shock. Eventually, he pulled her towards him in a hug, trying not to notice the several tubes that surrounded her. She sobbed rhythmically into his chest, taking in the scent of his posh and well laundered suit. He felt her sniffing, but tried not to notice.

“Shush Anne. It's all right.” But she continued to cry, and he continued to hold her. 

 

It was a long while before either spoke again. 

“Margaret was- Eddie's mother. You remember Eddie right? My-” 

“Boyfriend, yeah.” He couldn't hide the sound of spite in his voice. Anne tried not to be taken aback by it. 

“Well, Eddie wasn't- wasn't- wasn't perfect.” Richard suddenly felt rather sick. He was a lawyer, he'd heard these stories before. “Anything but, actually. Richard, you have to understand, I was a child! I was fifteen years old! I'd never had a boyfriend, I didn't know what to expect!” Her eyes filled up with tears and he impulsivly grabbed her hand. “He was so sweet to my parents, so loving to me in front of them, I thought maybe-” She looked him dead in the eye. “-I was imagining it.” Richard's naesea was growing. “So I let it happen. I let him control me, take over my life.” Richard had so many thing he wanted to say to her, so many things he wanted her to know, but this could be the only time she would ever share this story, and he didn't want to interupt it. “In some ways, life got better! He was quite populat at school, so I became quite popular. He was funny when he liked to be, when he was with his friends. Having a drink. He liked a drink, bit too much.” Richard nodded, he remembered. “There was one night, his seventeenth birthday. He had had A LOT to drink, so I was going to walk him home. He didn't mean to say anything, he didn't mean to do it, but he was drunk! He asked for- things. And obviously I said no, and I hoped he'd stop asking. But he kept on, and he got-” She began to shake at the memory, he held her hands tighter. “-violent. He held me up against a wall and...tried to..” She cried and he held her again. But he couldn't help but wonder. Eddie Lnacaster had died that night, could she have possibly? He cupped her face and looked at her, her little angelic bruised face. Who could blame her if she had?

“Anne?” He needed to know. “Did you- do anything?” Her eyes widened and she pushed his hand away roughly. 

“I didn't kill him! I don't know who did! Someone came out from the shadows and- pulled him off me.”

“And he fell and hit his head? Just like you said before?” He wanted to believe her, he truly did. 

“Yes.” She replied meekly. “And he died in a hospital bed two days later.” 

“Anne, this was six years ago. And his death wasn't your fault! Do you mean to say, you've been reciving these texts for- six years?” 

“No! Of course not! It's been like-” She looked away, as if she was guilty of something. 

“How long, Anne?”

“Almost a year.” His mouth dropped open.

“A year? Why didn't you tell anyone?” 

“WHO WOULD I TELL?” Richard searched his brain for an answer. He could only think of one answer.

“Me?” Anne scoffed. 

“You, before a month ago we hadn't talked in over four years!”

“And whose fault was that?”

“How was it my fault?” The red mist fell over Anne, no longer caring about what she said.

“BECAUSE YOU WENT OFF WITH KATE!” 

 

They stared at each other, saying nothing as they mutually came to the realisation that neither had or ever would love anyone else as much as they loved each other. 

 

But silence remained. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Edward sat at his desk, looking out at the window opposite him, out at the rain. He had received a call from his mother saying that Anne Neville have gone into hospital. Over the phone, he had tried to pretend he cared, but had 'regretfully' declined the offer to go see her, declaring he 'was too busy at the office'. And technically, he should have been, the amount of paperwork that was mounting up on his desk was frankly frigtening. But he couldn't work like this. 

 

He hadn't slept in a really long time. Apparently the office floor was not the easiest place to fall asleep. Plus, everytime he tried to go to sleep, a voice began to scream in his head. And one image in his mind. It was Beth, all grown up sitting with her mother at the kitchen table, without him. Without the mearest thought of him. 

 

Nothing could terrify him more. 

 

“Excuse me, Mr York. Do you have a moment?” It was Lucy, his new secretary. She was- nice. Ed shook all current thoughts out of his head, knowing he was in enough trouble already without bringing someone else into it. He hadn't answered, but she was already closing the door behind her. 

“What is it, Lucy?” He couldn't help but sound irritated. She was slightly taken aback, unaware of anything but his charming side. She carried on regardless. 

“A number of papers have arrived for you.” Ed groaned. 

“I told you. You leave _all_ papers outside-”

“I know! I know, it's just,” She slid them onto his desk. “They were marked urgent.” He stared at them in disbelief. 

 

Without a moments hesitation, he had lent over his desk, ripping at the envelope angrily. And there it was. In her perfect, curly writing. 

 

Elizabeth Rivers Woodville

 

He narrowed his eyes at it, half in disbelief, half in pure rage. He grabbed at a pen sitting next to him and scribbled under a tiny 'x' marking the place he would sign. 

 

Edward York 

 

He called Lucy back into his office. 

“Yes, Mr York?” He licked the envelope. He suddenly felt very dizzy.

“Fine just- fine.” He held the envelope out to her. “Take that down to the mailroom, would you?” She smiled. 

“Of course, sir.” Ed lent back in his chair and took a deep breath. “So it was important, sir?” He laughed. 

“Yes, Lucy. It was important.” She smiled, nodded, and turned to leave the room. 

“Good, she said it would be.” He stood up. 

“Who? What? Lucy?” She looked amused. 

“The woman! There was a woman who brought it up here.” Ed tried to ignore his heart, and the fact it was beating about 4 times to fast. 

“What did she look like?” She tilted her head, trying to remember. “Lucy!” 

“Um... she was fair, blonde hair, blue eyes. Really beautiful.” He ran to the window. 

 

And saw her, looking up at him. Even from this great distence, he could see the tears in her eyes. For a few moments, her eyes met his. A single sun beam shone over her and she smiled, as if everything was all right again. 

 

And then she walked away. 

 

 

_12 Years Before_

 

“That's £12.49, sir.” He'd never really been nervous around a girl before, he had always had it covered. Sales girls were his forte. Then why was he nervous? Why were his hands shaking as he passed her the note and change? She smiled, picking up on every nervous noise he made. 

“When...when... when..” He could hear someone from behind him coughing with impatience. She hid her face with her hair and laughed softly. She pulled her head up and looked at him.

“I get off at eight.” He took a huge sigh of relief and ran a hand through his hair, and she laughed again. “Now move out of my line.” He winked. 

 

While she worked he stared at her, taking in every element of her. As if he'd never get the opportunity again.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Liz wiped away a tear and wrapped her coat around her. 

 

_You did the right thing, Liz. You could never forgive him, not this time. He's not that man anymore._

 

“But he was once.” She whispered under her breath. “And I'll miss him.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, sorry I've taking so long on this- a lot has been going on recently, hopefully I can start again now. 
> 
> Lots of love, angryclockface!


End file.
